wow. thanks for your comments, kids. my peeps are so supportive. i'd be lost here without you guys and i'm not saying that in the way that i sometimes make sarcastic things sound emotionally sincere and then laugh. and then people tell me i'm mean. i really mean it. preposterone and elkanikkole and raygonne make oakland worthwhile. i love you and i'm not even drunk. yet.
so after all my pseudo-philosophical crap yesterday about cartwheels and diving into the ground head-first...i took a fucking digger off my bike today. the irony was not lost on me.
i had to shift left on the road so some asshole could pass me on the right (he was in a big hurry to get to the stop sign 20 feet away) and my tire got stuck in the dirt groove between the old train tracks and the pavement. i scraped up my elbow really bad and i have a lump on my knee. luckily, i know i'm a klutz(sp?) so i had my helmet on and the lady driving in the opposite direction stopped to make sure i was okay. i got up and started moaning and swearing on the sidewalk outside of some janky auto-body shop. i looked up 18th and thought "am i going to have to walk all the way to the cafe? fuckkkkkk!"
but i'm a hard-ass so i walked it off and got back on the urban horse and got to work in time to patch myself up, whine like a little baby, and whine like a little baby some more to everyone and anyone who asked about my bandage.
the older you get the harder it is to get hurt like that. it seems like it hurts way more than it did when i was little. are you pitying me yet?
preposterone was an angel and drove me home after my shift in her clown-wagon. she's a fucking peach, man.
before all that stupid stuff...i talked to one of my bestest friends this morning. one of my boys from college. the friend that taught me how to really be a friend and a lot about really listening to music. he's also a funny bastard and a great dresser. i miss you, grampa.
he's now on assignment to come up with the thing that will draw me back to the east coast someday. something that i know, no matter how much i feel at home here, will have to happen eventually. don't worry, i won't have the cash for at least two years.
new england is:
-the way that tailpipe exhaust creates a whiteout of steam-fog in traffic when it's winter.
-a sweater, jeans, the fall wind, a cup of coffee and a cigarette.
-the sludge of humidity washing off as you wade into cape cod's waters to dig for rocks.
-where my favorite toddlers live.
-a lightning storm at four a.m. in mid-august.
-triple m's home where i can hide and watch sex and the city and lay on her bed (which smells like her hair products) and rifle through her records and watch ten minutes of *the kids are alright* while she gets ready to go out.
-the smell of leaves and wood burning stoves.
-deliabop's home where i can listen to *this american life* with her in silence and sleep over when i'm too drunk for anything except her and talking to her and listening to her and the pitcher of water and some aspirin the she sets by my bed for me.
-pancakes at Nick's diner.
-unstoppable love.
-the way historic brick buildings are humble and majestic at the same time.
-a backscratch from my mom.
-walking dogs in the woods.
-completely romanticized in my mind. so much so that i've forgotten how sad it can be.
tomorrow, more boring crap and maybe "oakland is:"
[gets up to get another beer]
